Lena swallowed and hoped her voice wouldn’t break. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
Ella grabbed a strand of her hair and clutched it in her tiny fist. Her eyes were so open and trusting. To her, Lena was a safe human, providing warm arms to hold her, a soft voice to calm her, and the promise of milk to feed her. Neither her history nor her present problems were important.
Yesterday she had struggled to stay in the moment as memories of feeding Tammy for the first time rose. Tammy had been out of the hospital for a week and was only supposed to get formula when their mom wasn’t home. But their mom had been drinking and was sleeping it off, oblivious to Tammy’s crying. Lena had prepared the formula, meticulously following the instructions on the package. She’d babysat neighborhood kids before, but never in her seventeen years had she needed to give anyone the bottle. She’d been a nervous wreck, but the second Tammy took her first sip and smacked her lips, she’d lost her heart. And like all meaningful relationships in her life, even that simple bond with her sister hadn’t lasted. In the eyes of their mother and Tammy’s father, she’d only been the babysitter. Tammy’s father had made that clear, even when Lena had distanced herself from her mother and her destructive behavior years later. When her sister was taken from her, she’d lost a part of her heart she could never get back
She bowed her head over Ella and breathed in her fresh baby scent. Nothing was as calming. Swallowing her self-pity, Lena blew a raspberry on Ella’s stomach and looked up again.
Jess didn’t seem to have noticed anything. She tested the bottle against the skin on her arm. “Perfect.” She held it out to Lena.
“Thanks.” Lena concentrated on the baby in front of her. She wasn’t Tammy but Ella, a wonderful, tiny person. They’d forge their own connection, as long as she got the chance to be part of her life. “Hi, Ella, I’ve got something for you.”
Wednesday afternoon, Jess returned from her midday walk to excited voices coming from somewhere on the first floor. She removed Ella from the stroller, hoisted her on her hip, and searched for her mom and Lena. She found them in the large formal dining room at the table for twelve.
Her mom looked up from the papers she and Lena were huddled over. “How are my girls?”
“Mom.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Don’t call me that.”
Grinning, she pushed her reading glasses up into her gray locks. “Just wait and see when Ella’s older if you can stop calling her your little girl. See, at least I omitted the little.”
Jess groaned and barely stopped herself from stomping her foot. Okay, if she wanted to protest being called a girl, she shouldn’t behave like an adolescent. But her mom knew how to push her buttons.
“Here, fuss over your granddaughter.” She passed Ella on and smiled as her mom’s attention fixated on the baby.
Jess walked over to Lena, who was watching their interaction with a grin. “What are you working on?”
“We’re sorting her notes and working on an outline.” Lena’s eyes sparkled as she gestured at the stacks of paper. “Maggie has several years’ worth of notes and so many ideas.”
Pages full of her mom’s handwriting were strewn over the length of the oversized table, interspersed with crude drawings of what Jess guessed to be parts of plants. Sticky notes in several colors were stuck to them, labeled in Lena’s neat hand. Someone had hung a giant piece of paper to her great-grandmother’s china cabinet, and the same colorful sticky notes, with lines drawn between them, adorned it in a pattern that hopefully meant more to Lena than to her.
“You mean you’re fighting the chaos? My mom has brought many assistants to tears with her unscientific approach.” Jess grinned as she remembered discussions between her parents at this very dinner table about her mom’s work style. Her father had been like Jess: meticulous, organized, and linear. Her mother believed in creativity, chaos, and the organic growth of ideas. But seeing as she’d retired as a respected professor after a long career at the university, it must have worked for her.
“I can’t judge the scientific content of the book, but I’m assisting her in visualizing with a mind map, and we’re color coding the different topics.” Lena pointed from the stacks of papers to the sticky notes. “As soon as she’s decided what goes into the book, I’ll start typing up the notes. It’s so exciting to learn more about what’s growing outside right under our noses.” Her cheeks were flushed, and she had leaned forward as she spoke, into Jess’s personal space.
Close enough that her scent—fresh soap with a hint of mint—invaded Jess’s senses and sent her thoughts scattering. Holding her breath, she stepped over to the mind map.
The longer Jess regarded it, the more she could see the logical structure. Amazing. Lena not only tolerated working with her mom, she actually seemed to like it. And was good at it.
A phone beeped, and Lena sighed.
Jess turned around.
As Lena typed, the enthusiasm in her expression dimmed as if someone had snuffed out a candle. Her shoulders drooped, and she slowly walked to the door that led into the kitchen. “Maggie?”
“Yes, dear?” her mom answered from the next room.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you assist me with a massage client tonight at seven?”
“Sure.”
“No, wait. Don’t you and Ella have plans with Clarissa?” Jess asked, knowing her mother was looking forward to showing off her grandchild. “I can do it.”
From her position at the door, Lena looked at Jess with wide eyes. To make matters worse, her mom appeared behind Lena, mirroring her expression.
Why were they staring? She was offering because her mom hadn’t seen her friend in a while. Resisting the
